The Story of a Scar
by IncanArticuno
Summary: The tale of how Joachim Karel recieved that scar on his hand. Will contain fantasy stuff, for originality! R and R! CHAPTER 2 NOW UP!
1. Runaways

Disclaimer: I don't own Tomb Raider (darn), and I don't own the character Joachim Karel (double darn). So please don't sue me, and if you do, you're not getting anything because I have nothing whatsoever. Although I guess I do own the rest of the fanfiction!  
  
Oh, and all the characters and the location in this chapter are entirely fictional. Any similarities to anyone/anywhere are coincidence.  
  
Author's note-Please Read!: This is my first actual fanfiction posted here at fanfiction.net, so please be gentle; I have a fragile self-esteem. I'm not quite sure what kind of feedback this is going to get, because this is going to be different compared to an average Tomb Raider fic. First of all, Lara unfortunately is not going to show up here. This fanfiction is entirely about the character Joachim Karel and Lara didn't even exist during the times of this story. If you were hoping that Lara would be here, I apologize. Second of all, this story contains fantasy-type characters and situations. If you don't like that sort of stuff, leave now. However, if you're looking for a completely unique Tomb Raider-related fanfiction, I think you've come to the right place. ________________________________________________________________________  
  
The Story of a Scar  
By IncanArticuno  
  
Chapter 1: Runaways  
  
Turkey, 176 B.C.  
  
Joachim stood at the beginning of a great forest as he watched the city burn several miles away. It had been his home, the only place he had ever lived in, and now it was being decimated by hordes of filthy marauders. He sighed bitterly.  
  
He knew that Tyrocia would never be marked on another map. The city had been attacked quickly and effectively at the break of dawn, and by now it was completely ransacked. All of his friends and nearly everyone he had known were dead. Tyrocia had been captured by an enemy, a very strong enemy, so it was most probable it would never be rebuilt.  
  
Their weapons were too strong. Nephilim were supposed to be immortal, so therefore no ordinary armament could ultimately kill them, but the assailants' weaponry had not been ordinary. All their blades and arrow-tips had been made of what looked like black crystals that he had seen annihilate many Nephilim. Against that army, a Nephilim was as mortal as any human was.  
  
Joachim had seen humans attack Nephilim before, but never in such a way as they did this morning. This time the humans had animals with them. These animals had been different, for they weren't beasts of burden nor were they the slaves of the humans. These animals battled alongside the men without being guided. They were also wild and ferocious creatures; some Joachim had seen in the wilderness, but others he had only heard about. This army was one for all of his kind to fear. How could humans and animals create such an alliance? What sorcery could create a weapon that could dispatch the immortal?  
  
As he contemplated, a voice called out from the trees. "Joachim? Joachim! Oh, where are you? We have to leave before we're caught!"  
  
Joachim turned his back to his ruined home. "Over here."  
  
He waited for a moment, and then a patch of forest undergrowth rustled as a woman stepped out. She was human, but at the moment she was the one person that Joachim trusted the most. Her long blonde hair fell over her shoulders as she quickly ducked under a tree branch, and her bright brown eyes regarded him with relief. At the moment, they looked quite a bit alike. The woman continually wished their appearances similar because that way they truly would seem that they were relatives. This lady was none other than Jobina Karel, Joachim's mother.  
  
"Joachim, it is not safe out in the open. Please, let us go!"  
  
He sighed once again. Sometimes his mother could frighten herself very badly. She had always been this way, even before he was born, as others had told him. Joachim's mother had had a timid and shy nature ever since her husband had left her, leaving her to raise her son on her own. Because of this, Joachim never even knew who his father was. Whenever he had tried to pry it out of her, she'd either change the subject or start weeping. Jobina's shyness also had made her dependent upon her son, even if he was several years away from adulthood. At this point, she was trying to protect him as any mother should, but her panic was showing through.  
  
"Mother, stop being hysterical. We need a plan."  
  
"We are leaving! Is that not good enough for you?"  
  
"There are not any cities safe enough for miles. We won't survive the journey without provisions."  
  
Jobina immediately realized what her son wanted to do and became more frightened than she was at first. "You mean to go back to Tyrocia? There's an army waiting to slaughter any Nephilim or sympathizer they see! It's been plundered! If we go back, we will be killed!"  
  
His mother was nearly raving. With terrible enemies sneaking about, her loud voice made him nervous. "Stop yelling! You do not want to draw unwanted attention!"  
  
But this warning had come too late. Before either could do anything, a black-tipped arrow came darting out of the shadows of the forest behind Joachim's mother, straight for them. It hit Jobina squarely in the back. Her face contorted in surprise, and then her body slowly fell face down on the ground. Knowing that he could do nothing for her, Joachim was off like a shot, before any other arrows could chase after him.  
  
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Hopefully you enjoyed that. If not, sorry. It was short, and it may have been confusing, but more answers will come in the next chapter. If I get any nice reviews, I swear I will continue this story to the end. Chapter 2 will bring in more characters (and drama), and Chapter 3 will be where it all ends, and Joachim will have his scar (and even more drama here too!). Bye! ^-^ 


	2. Arrogance

Disclaimer: You know the drill: I don't TR or Karel. *sniff*  
  
Please read the.  
  
*Author's note*: Hi, everyone! I'm here to continue with Chapter 2. Sorry that it took so long. School's started and well.you know. Since I've finally put a fanfiction on this site, I feel that it is my duty to finish it. I really HATE it when someone starts writing a fic here and they don't end it. If I did the same thing, I'd be a hypocrite! And I can't have that now, can I? Just to warn you again, there's definitely going to be a lot of hard-core fantasy things showing up here. It was only slightly suggested in the last chapter, but here it's going to raise its ugly head. (Or wonderful, depends if you like fantasy or not. For me, it's great. I love all genres, except for slash.)  
  
This chapter will deal with magic. Some of the characters will be mythical creatures, or beasts of my own imagination. Don't flame me if you don't like it. You have been warned!  
  
So let's begin! ^-^  
  
Chapter 2: Arrogance  
  
Joachim ran until he was absolutely sure no one could possibly be following him. He leaned against an old gnarled tree as he tried catching his breath. The boy breathed deeply, trying to calm himself down, but it was to no avail. His mother was dead; murdered by cowardly savages. Infuriated and grief-stricken, he slid down the trunk, ending up sitting against the tree. Joachim's felt as if his energy had been entirely drained out of him. What would he do now? He could leave this area and attempt to find a safe haven for himself, or he could go back and seek the killers to avenge his mother. Both were foolish, and could probably in death or a 'living death', if it came to starvation on the road. He desperately wished for revenge. Why if those killers were here, he would.  
  
The Nephilim realized that there wasn't really anything he could do to any of his enemies. At his age, he didn't know much about tapping into and using his inherited powers. He had only recently come to be a teenager. Joachim was nowhere near as powerful as an adult Nephilim. If he were to confront these transgressors, he'd most likely be slaughtered quickly.  
  
Not a thing could be done. Downhearted, Joachim walked off into the undergrowth. He didn't know where he was headed, but he didn't want to be around here anymore. There would be no avenging of his family or friends. He was just a useless boy, after all.  
  
It was almost silent as he treaded along aimlessly. No birds were chirping; all the young Nephilim could hear was the breeze finding its way through the many branches. The stillness amplified all the sounds that he made. Twigs would crack loudly underneath his feet. Joachim wagered that any creature with sharp ears could hear him from miles away. The sniper that shot that fatal arrow was obviously no exception. It would be no one's fault but his if he were also shot in the back.  
  
After what felt like an eternity of walking, Joachim began to hear distant voices. Immediately on edge, he crouched down in the undergrowth, waiting for those voices to come closer. His eyes darted every which way, spying for snipers, or any other type of foe. No enemy was in sight, and the voices didn't seem to be coming this way. They grew louder, but Joachim's sensitive ears let him know that the speakers weren't moving about. What the hell were they doing? He stealthily crept through the brush to get closer.  
  
The volume of the voices increased as he came nearer. They were yelling and laughing raucously; generally causing a lot of noise. It seemed like a rowdy group. Joachim lurked even further, and finally spied the clearing that this boisterous crowd was currently using as an encampment. There were six of them and all of them were male. Four of the gang were ordinary enough. Two were human, and looked quite disgusting. They probably never even heard of the word 'hygiene'. One had a short beard. The other had long stubble. Both had the same dark greasy hair and grubby skin. They obviously hadn't bathed in days, maybe even weeks. The other two were horses. One was black with white stockings; the other a deep chestnut. They both looked better kept.  
  
The last two were somewhat quite.different. Joachim had never actually seen such beasts in his entire life, but he remembered them in old legends and books. The first creature had the head and wings of an eagle, with the body of a large cat. It was nothing other than a griffin. This particular griffin had deep, dark brown fur and feathers. Its sharp beak and acute eyes were the same bright yellow. The second animal Joachim saw was something known as a wyvern. It was dragon-like, but not necessarily a dragon. The wyvern was a grass-green reptilian biped; its feet quite like that of a chicken's. With razor teeth and a barbed tail, it was particularly nasty looking.  
  
Joachim could see that they were all very much used to fighting, and most definitely soldiers of the army that conquered Tyrocia. All of them were fitted with armor, and had various battle scars. The griffin was standing on its hind legs, leaning on a black-tipped spear to do so. The bearded man had a shield and a sword that was now sheathed. The sword had a high probability of having a black blade. The wyvern and the horses had no visible weapons, but the other human was an archer. The archer made the boy cringe. Could he have been the one who fired that loathsome dart which took his mother's life?  
  
The group was apparently celebrating their victory. Each was laughing and joking around, not fearing any ambush at all. They must have come back from Tyrocia, for they had brought back with them some of the spoils of war. Several gold items could be seen in the humans' packs. The wyvern had taken an ivory bracelet and was now wearing it on its right leg. At the moment, the griffin and the horses did not seem to have any items with them. Evidently, all of them had stolen several bottles of wine.  
  
The two men were lounging on the ground, each having a bottle in their hands and chugging the alcohol. The wyvern had come up to the archer, plainly wanting to also have a drink. Damn hypocrites! Other races always said how evil Nephilim were, and their possessions were not to be touched; but here these creatures were, with the stolen goods of Joachim's kind!  
  
The archer tried to push the wyvern away. "Lemme alone, Saruth! This is MY wine!" He was clearly drunk.  
  
"Aw, but you've got the good stuff! Please, can't I have some?" Joachim was surprised to hear the wyvern, Saruth, speak. Usually, animals couldn't articulate in the way that humans could. Who or what gave them the magic to make it so that they could communicate?  
  
"But it's mine." the archer answered. He nudged Saruth away again.  
  
Saruth began to pout. "Fine then! I've got my own wine! I'll drink it, and none of you can have any!"  
  
"Now, now, there's no need for an argument," said the griffin. By the way its voice sounded, it was obviously tired. Seemingly, all the animals here could talk.  
  
"Yes, you two have done plenty of that on the way here." the swordsman commented. He wasn't intoxicated yet. Either he hadn't drunk as much as his comrade or he had a higher tolerance to alcohol.  
  
Saruth squinted at him suspiciously. "Hey, why don't you mind your own business?"  
  
The black horse began to also complain about the wyvern. "Can't you shut up? We've won the battle, and all is well. We can rest now." He lowered himself and lied down in the grass. "My legs are killing me."  
  
The chestnut was still standing, apparently still having some energy. "If you'd like to call it a battle, Nightshade." he said to the other equine, "It was really more of a massacre to me. They never even knew what hit 'em."  
  
Saruth the wyvern laughed. "They sure didn't, did they? Never expected us lowly, uncivilized creatures would have some nice, advanced weapons. Heh heh heh."  
  
"God and His Spirits do provide, don't they?" asked the griffin.  
  
The drunken archer looked up at the feathered beast. "Eh? Tavos, what're you talking about?"  
  
"I see that you don't take Bakkumose's words to heart, do you, Jared?" Tavos the griffin replied.  
  
The drunken archer, Jared, burst into laughter. "Ha! What do I care about Bakkumose and his foolishness? I joined this stinkin' army so I could get rich or somethin'! Not to conquer the Nephilim, not to find religious enlightenment, just to get gold! An' I don't care if you think I'm greedy."  
  
"You are definitely greedy." said Saruth.  
  
"I guess he's not very loyal." The swordsman muttered. He took a swig of his wine.  
  
"So what?" Jared continued, gesturing wildly as he spoke. "Bakkumose is crazy, even if he is our leader. That insane religious dribble he goes on and on about, I mean, sure there is a God. But there are no such things as the Spirits. I do not know if he is mad or if it is a hoax."  
  
"Of course there are Spirits." The griffin murmured.  
  
Jared began to laugh. "You actually believe Bakkumose? All those things he rants over and over are demented!" He shook his head in disbelief. 'The entities that control our world and our fates are the Spirits'. The archer said this in a mocking tone, making light of this Bakkumose's teachings. "He's conning us into that insane religion!"  
  
"Um, I'm kind of inclined to agree." Spoke Saruth. "Bakkumose is sort of.er.weird."  
  
"Well, weird or not," answered Nightshade, "Bakkumose is doing both animals and humans a favor. Starting this campaign to wipe out the Nephilim was his idea, you know."  
  
"Not to mention uniting us animals and you humans together." agreed the chestnut. "The magic that Bakkumose knows is fantastic. He can make us able to talk to humans, find ways to defeat the immortal, and more. If there was a society with his knowledge and morals, it would be a utopia."  
  
"Yeah, a society fulla madmen!" Jared said. He continued, with his speech slurring. "He wants everyone to join tha' religion.whazzit called.?"  
  
"He calls it the 'Animaleic Religion'." The swordsman answered.  
  
"Yeah! He won't do nuthin' for you unless you join that thing. What's it all about, anyway?"  
  
"Well," Nightshade began, "Bakkumose says that a long time ago, there used to be this wonderful civilization called Atlantis. They used magic and science together, and became really powerful. Anyway, the government became corrupted and the civilization fell, and all that magical and scientific knowledge was lost. Then a long time after that, one of those old Atlantean spellbooks was found, and now Bakkumose and his friends want to bring it back. Basically, there's this Higher Power, or God if you like, and He created all these Spirits and Angels to do his bidding. Then He created us, and then He made this thing called magic for us to use. Now, He wants us to use this magic for good and to defeat evil. And since the Nephilim are the sons of Angels who rebelled against Him, they're bad. And we've got to defeat them."  
  
The swordsman was the first to speak after that explanation. "Well put."  
  
"Yeah, you explained that real well," said Saruth. "So.what're those black crystal things? I know what they do, but what are they?"  
  
Nightshade began to clarify things again. "Those are what Bakkumose calls 'Periapt Shards'. They contain the magic necessary to kill a Nephilim. Craft them anyway you like, but they still have that power. They are the one weakness of the Nephilim."  
  
"That's interesting." The chestnut horse said.  
  
"Yeah," Saruth said, "it's interesting because I'm picking up the scent of a Nephilim right now."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Damn; the wind had shifted. They were smelling Joachim at this very moment. He didn't think it would do much good to run. They'd see him, catch him, and kill him in no time. The soldiers would find him, no matter what he did.  
  
Tavos leapt up and was immediately ready for anything hostile. "Look about! Where is it?"  
  
"Lemme go look for 'em!" yelled Jordan, notching an arrow.  
  
"No, we need to stay together!" ordered the other human.  
  
Nightshade, skittishly prancing in place, glanced around. "Where did Saruth go?"  
  
"Damn it!" Tavos cried. "Where is he?"  
  
Joachim realized that the wyvern Saruth was gone, and probably lurking around, searching for him. He needed to get out of here somehow. Joachim turned around and began to creep through the undergrowth, hoping that they wouldn't find him. The heathen creatures wouldn't show any mercy if they found him.  
  
"Can any of you tell where it is?" the swordsman asked the animals.  
  
The chestnut horse answered. "I-I think it's over there." He made a pointing gesture with his nose, and a very inaccurate one at that. Joachim was in a totally different direction.  
  
Suddenly, Saruth's voice wafted down from the forest canopy. "It's not over there, you ignoramus! It's down there! Right there!" Joachim could see the green flying lizard fluttering above the branches like a bat, right overhead. He had been spotted. He instantly stood upright and began to run.  
  
Saruth swept down for an attack. "Oh, no you don't! You're not getting away!" The wyvern dived for the boy and tried to embed his talons in Joachim's neck. They didn't harm Joachim, but they certainly hindered him.  
  
The boy swung around and slammed a fist right into Saruth's midsection. It was a very instinctive action, which worked amazingly well. The wyvern was thrown back, and Joachim saw that Saruth's skin was smoking as he fell to the ground. "Ahhh! It set me on fire!" Saruth screamed. "That dirty little bastard set me on fire!" Had Joachim really used magic on Saruth? It was possible, especially in a threatening moment like this.  
  
It was too late to do anything else. The griffin sprung up and pounced on Joachim, making him unable to execute any defensive actions. Tavos got up, but laid one paw on the boy's back to keep him from getting up. Joachim lay face down in the dirt as he and Tavos waited for the other soldiers to arrive. "This one is not full grown!" Tavos called out to his comrades. "It is a boy!"  
  
"What else is new?" Saruth asked as he limped over to where Tavos had pinned Joachim. The wyvern snarled. "Damn little bastard used its sorcery on me! I wanna kill it!"  
  
"You will not lay a claw on it!" directed the swordsman.  
  
"But-" Saruth protested.  
  
"I will be the judge of it."  
  
"How come you get to decide? That's not fair!"  
  
"Because I'm the one in charge, and we all know that you make poor decisions!"  
  
"That's definitely true." Nightshade agreed, as he, Jared, and the other horse entered the area. "Remember when Saruth accidentally led us into that ambush? I mean, he-"  
  
"Aw, shaddup!"  
  
Jared looked extremely vexed. "Well, what are we going to with it?"  
  
"Kill it!" cried Saruth.  
  
The rest of the soldiers yelled out in unison. "Shut up, Saruth!"  
  
The leader turned to Tavos. "Let it stand up, but make sure it won't do any harm." Joachim felt that heavy paw lift up, but Tavos remained tense, ready to strike at any moment. The swordsman spoke again as Joachim lifted himself up to face him. "Do you have a name, Nephilim?"  
  
"Of course I do, you ignorant mortal. It is Joachim Karel."  
  
"You ought to mind your manners, boy," replied Jared, clutching his bow, "we're in control here. We have Periapt Shards."  
  
"I'm not afraid of you or any sort of shards that you have. And you are ignorant, and a mortal."  
  
The swordsman scowled at him. "Well, whether or not you believe I'm ignorant is irrelevant. You are a young Nephilim, and I am Joseph Francis, a human with a Periapt blade." He unsheathed his blade, which was indeed black, and glowed with a blue aura. "I am going to decide whether you live or die today, so therefore you should show some respect."  
  
"I will never give any respects to a human like you!" Joachim spat on Joseph's boots. Everyone else lit up in bewilderment, and then Tavos's heavy paw grasped Joachim's shoulder.  
  
"I really would not recommend doing something that impulsive, child." Whispered Tavos. "Joseph is a patient man, but he is a terrible sight to see when he has lost it."  
  
Joachim was pushing the limit, but the swordsman kept his composure. "Why do the Nephilim hate us so much?" he halfheartedly muttered as he gazed down at his feet.  
  
Their prisoner answered, although Joseph didn't anticipate it. "Because you think that you're better than we are."  
  
"Maybe we are and maybe we aren't. I know that my race can be cruel and greedy. But I also know that your kind's mothers were human, and your fathers are the rebels of God. Your race is a whole lot of tricksters. You can turn a man against his brother, and make a whore out of a woman."  
  
"Liar." Spat out Joachim. "That is just a myth that you all created, so you could justify the genocide of the Nephilim."  
  
"Bakkumose is the one you want to blame for that." Nightshade murmured guiltily. "He's the one who said all of that."  
  
"And speak of the Devil," called out a deep, rich voice, "for here I come."  
  
"General Bakkumose!" Joachim's captors cried.  
  
A creature that Joachim didn't recognize lumbered into view. Bakkumose had a canine head, but had the ears of a horse. His body was beastly, and the animal had the paws like a bear's. He had fur that would seem to be fit for an animal in the arctic. The pelt was thick and white as fresh snow. Its frame was huge. The beast looked slightly like a gigantic dog.  
  
"G-G-General Bakkumose, what're you doing out here all by yourself?" asked Saruth.  
  
Bakkumose, apparently unaware that his subordinate was questioning him, gave Saruth an easygoing grin. Being some sort of weird beast, it looked quite grotesque. His teeth were not white or yellow, but a pearly black. "Just checking up on some of the camps. Things have died down quite a bit, pardon the pun." Joachim understood this, and glared at him. So he was the one who brought humans and animals together to exterminate the Nephilim. This unknown beast was campaigning for murder, yet he didn't seem to be much of a leader. Bakkumose probably was crazy.  
  
"Do you think that's safe, sir?" the chestnut horse inquired.  
  
"For me it is. I can smell a Nephilim from a mile away." He pointed his nose in Joachim's direction. "I see that you have one."  
  
"Yes, sir, we do." Replied Joseph.  
  
"Yeah!" Saruth yelled. "It burned me, and I want revenge and I wanna kill it!"  
  
The huge general ignored the ranting wyvern and walked up to his hated enemy. Joachim's height only reached to the top of Bakkumose's shoulder, so the boy had to look up into the beast's face. "What the hell are you?" Joachim boldly questioned.  
  
Bakkumose seemed to have as much patience as Joseph the swordsman, and the general serenely answered "My culture calls my race 'mongrels' because we resemble canines, but some of our appendages and such resemble that of another animal's. Now I will ask you a question." He put his head nose-to- nose with Joachim. "What is your age?"  
  
The Nephilim answered, staring unblinkingly into the mongrel's eyes. "I am thirteen years old."  
  
"Hmmmm." Was all that Bakkumose replied. He bought himself up to his full height, and backed several steps away.  
  
"Is that all you have to say to me?" challenged Joachim.  
  
Bakkumose smiled wryly. "If you want me to say more, I will."  
  
"Why do you want to destroy the Nephilim?"  
  
"Because you are evil." He had kept that clever little grin on his face, and closed his eyes in good humor.  
  
"We are not evil." Joachim's face was emotionless save for his hateful staring at General Bakkumose.  
  
The mongrel's eyes snapped open, and it frowned. He leered suspiciously at Joachim. "Oh really, you're sure? Don't you know of the horrible deeds that you race has done? How they kidnap scared, defenseless women to make them their wives? How they manipulate men into declaring wars on their brothers and taking the land of the losers'?  
  
"I've never seen any of that."  
  
"Was your mother a human? How did she react when she was taken to Tyrocia?"  
  
"I would not know, I was born after she came to Tyrocia."  
  
"What did your Grigori father say about it?"  
  
"I would not know that either, he was cast down before I was born."  
  
"Cast down into Hell by God Almighty! Now they're both dead."  
  
"Damn you, how did you know that?!"  
  
"I saw her die. I watched some lonely sniper pick her off like he did so many others. You're lucky that he did not shoot you too."  
  
Joachim glared at Bakkumose fiercely. "What did my mother do to you, or anyone? Since I can remember, she would never hurt a soul."  
  
"She gave birth to you, didn't she? She.rutted with some angel like." he smiled as he found some very choice words, "a bitch in heat."  
  
Joachim found his own choice words. "Fuck you." he spat in the mongrel's face, and the glob flew right into Bakkumose's right eye. The beast flinched liked he had been slapped in the face. The Nephilim continued. "She was a good woman. What you have been doing is murder! You lied to these men, you told them horrific tales about dying men and terrified women, but that was all fabrication. I know what you want. You want an army. An army to conquer the known world for that insane religion of yours, the Animaleic Religion!"  
  
"A religion that I would give my life to," Bakkumose replied as he wiped away the spit with the back of his paw, "but would never lie for. You don't understand, for you are young, but all that I've told my men is true." He walked up again. "Have you ever seen humans wipe out a neighboring village with weapons given to them by Nephilim?" The rest of the company gave out low gasps as Bakkumose suddenly wrapped his left paw around Joachim's neck and held him up face to face. "Feel my claws, Nephilim? Feel them dig deep."  
  
He squeezed, and Joachim felt his throat close up. He couldn't suffocate, but he'd eventually pass out from the lack of oxygen. He wasn't worried about this as much as he was worried about the claws in his skin. The tips scraped against his neck and drew blood. This was not supposed to happen! Nephilim were impervious to animal claws! "How are you hurting me?" he choked out.  
  
Bakkumose let go, and Joachim collapsed on the ground, gasping for air. Crimson blood was flowing down his neck in rivulets. Solemnly, Bakkumose whispered, "I am the only living creature that has Periapt Shards as natural weapons. My claws and fangs are made of that material." He lifted his head proudly. "They were gifts from the Spirits." He gazed down at the wounded boy, the boy's breath's coming in harsh gulps. "The truth is," he went on to say, "that the Grigori came here to rob the men and rape the women, and I was put on this earth to stop it." Then slowly and sullenly, he turned around and began to plod away.  
  
"Well," Jared asked, confused, "what are we going to do with it?"  
  
The general stopped, but did not look back. "Leave it here, and let it fend for itself." Bakkumose said.  
  
"What? Why?" Saruth cried. "I wanted to kill it!"  
  
"You will not!" Bakkumose ordered. "It is but a child, and it is dishonorable to kill one so young. Today, we will let it live. But mark my words," He turned his head this time, and looked straight at Joachim, "if you come looking for vengeance, you will not find it. Because I will kill you." The general went back to lumbering away. "Come!" He yelled to his men. "I'll bring you somewhere safer."  
  
Joseph and Jared went to their horses and leapt on their backs. Saruth fluttered away and perched on Jared's shoulder as they went out of sight. Tavos slunk into the underbrush as the rest of the company galloped away. Then they were gone leaving the bitter Joachim promising, promising to avenge his race.  
  
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And I thought Jobina was a weird name; now look what I'm writing! Well, anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. Plenty of drama, just like I promised! Don't flame me about the religion stuff, because hey, it's just a story, and Bakkumose is psychotic anyway. I had a funny desire to name the swordsman and archer Aragorn and Boromir. ;) Chapter 3 will be the conclusion, so only one more wait! Yay! Please read and review, 'cause it's the only thing that motivates me! Peace out! 


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